Can't Keep a Brunette Down by Diane Bator Read Free Book Online Page B

that two-faced—"
    "I'm a two-faced what?" Thayer strolled into the school. "I thought you guys were closed for the long weekend, but I saw Gilda come in."
    "We are closed." Mick folded his arms across the well-defined muscles of his chest. "She was just leaving."
    "Relax, muscle head." Thayer's gaze flicked from Gilda to Mick then back. "I thought I'd see if either of you remembered anything else."
    Gilda tried to look away but couldn't. He could have asked her before she left the station. "Yeah, I remembered I was going for a run."
    "Since when do you run?" Thayer asked.
    Her face warmed as she stood. "Since I dumped you."
    Mick's jaw twitched. "Since she started learning karate and wanting to get in shape. You have a problem with that?"
    "Nope."
    "You want some company?" Mick glanced to Gilda. "I've had enough paperwork. I need to get out of here too."
    Thayer laughed. "What are you? Her bodyguard?"
    "Only when you're around," Mick said. "In case you missed the memo, I don't like you much. You have a habit of not treating my friends very well."
    "She's your employee, not your friend, and she's perfectly capable of protecting herself. I've got the stitches to prove it." He backed away. "Fine. I'll leave, but this isn't over. As long as Walter Levy's killer is still out there, I'll be in your face." He hesitated. "And Gilda's."
    Neither spoke until Thayer had left the building and climbed into his cruiser.
    Mick leaned against the desk and blew out a long breath. "I really don't like that guy."
    "Get in line."
    "I once dated a girl who worked at Café Beanz and had a fling with him," he said. "You want to know the funny part? His girlfriend caught them in the act and beat the snot out of him."
    Gilda snorted. "You know full well I was his girlfriend, and it wasn't funny."
    Mick grinned. "I still can't believe you gave him a black eye, threw him into a gigantic bag of coffee beans, and left him with a nasty concussion. By the time I found out, it was all over the newspapers. They'd already broke up and the girl left town. Last I heard, she had two kids and a seventy-year-old sugar daddy."
    "A sugar daddy, huh? Maybe she's onto something." Gilda had a job babysitting black belts, a mortgage on a house the size of a throw cushion, and no one to go home to. She shut off the computer and headed for the door. "I'm going for my run. See you later."
    "Hey, wait up." Mick ran to his office and emerged pulling a muscle shirt down over his well-muscled torso. "I was serious about tagging along."
    At least she'd feel safer under the circumstances—safety in numbers—unless Mick was the killer. Gilda swallowed hard. "I guess that's okay. Where do you want to go?"
    "Surprise me." He locked the door behind them. "I need a change of scenery."
    She took him on her usual route, along Main Street to the park then down the trail by the river. Neither spoke. Both ran side by side, keeping their thoughts and words to themselves. A year and a half ago, she decided to run around the high school track. She got halfway around on her first attempt. The next day she pushed to three-quarters. After three more tries, she ran one complete lap then collapsed into the grass. Now she was up to running five miles every couple of days through the streets of her hometown.
    Ten thousand people called Sandstone Cove home during the summer. Nestled along the southern shore of Lake Erie, the town boasted sandy beaches and lazy, sunny days. Driftwood washed ashore daily, much to the amusement of local artisans, who turned nature's debris into artwork.
    By far, the town's biggest selling feature, until Walter's murder, was that no real crimes had been committed there since someone shot a local cop. Her dad. Apparently word hadn't gotten out yet that a man was murdered. Most tourists wouldn't really care. It was really none of their business. They'd continue to splash in the lake, Jet Ski, and steer their boats through the cove. For them, nothing out of